


Mistakes and Misunderstandings

by stelladora



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, first Downton fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelladora/pseuds/stelladora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thomas knew that it had been underhanded to snoop through Jimmy’s personal belongings, but he hadn’t had any malicious intentions. He hadn’t had any intentions, really. Jimmy was a very private person, and Thomas had only wanted to learn a bit about his friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes and Misunderstandings

“You know, you still haven’t returned my book,” Thomas said to Jimmy one evening after they’d served dinner. Thomas had lent him _David Copperfield_ months ago, and hadn’t seen it since. “It shouldn’t take you this long to get through it. Supposing you can read, that is,” Mr. Barrow teased.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and said,“I’ll return it. It’s been sitting in my room for ages.” He’d finished the book long ago, but for some reason he enjoyed having it with him. Jimmy would never admit that he’d looked it over several times, thinking about the fact that his hands were in precisely the same place that Thomas’ had been. “I’ll get it to you later. I promised Ivy I’d teach her that rag I was playing on the piano yesterday.” Jimmy’s eyes shone with that slightly mischievous glint that Thomas was so used to. It happened whenever Jimmy mentioned one of the girls, despite nearly everyone downstairs warning him not to lead Ivy or Daisy on.Thomas grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes at the very thought of Ivy sitting at the piano with Jimmy, their bodies close together on the small bench.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Jimmy, and he looked sidelong at Mr. Barrow. “If you’re so keen on having it back, why don’t you go get it yourself?” Jimmy asked, his tone as teasing as ever, as if he were challenging Mr. Barrow.

“Fine then, I will,” Mr. Barrow said, and turned on his heel to make his way upstairs before Jimmy could say another word. Jimmy stood in the hall for a moment, watching him go and wondering if he should be worried. He trusted Mr. Barrow, and decided that there was no reason to worry. It wasn’t a very involved task, and since Mr. Barrow was the one who wanted the thing back, Jimmy decided he could get it himself. Jimmy headed toward the servants’ hall where Ivy was waiting for him, pushing Mr. Barrow from his mind.

Thomas climbed the stairs to the servants’ quarters, wondering why Jimmy was always so difficult about the oddest things. There was no getting the man to do anything he didn’t want to do, and that was a dangerous quality in a footman. It had cost Jimmy several times before, and Mr. Barrow guessed that he could always count on overhearing the man getting told off by Carson. Mr. Barrow stopped at Jimmy’s door, just down the hall from his own. It had been nearly two years since he’d set foot in Jimmy’s room, and it had only been for a moment that night. Ignoring the memories that came to mind, Thomas pushed the door open, telling himself that he was only there to get his book, which he had permission for, anyhow.

The room, unsurprisingly, looked nearly identical to Thomas’ own, with a bed (probably too small) against one wall, and a few other standard furnishings. Thomas glanced around, letting the door swing nearly closed as he scanned the room. Finally he found his book on the nightstand, among a few other odds and ends. Thomas wondered how long the young man would have kept it if Thomas hadn’t remembered it that evening. He snatched up the novel, then took another look around the room. It was unlikely that he’d have another chance like this; a free pass into Jimmy’s room, with no one around to see him. Mr. Barrow couldn’t resist letting old instincts get the best of him.

He started with Jimmy’s nightstand, taking a closer look at what was there. On top was an  alarm clock, a book that didn’t look halfway interesting, and a small double-portrait frame depicting people who could only be Jimmy’s parents. Both of them had light hair, and the man definitely had the same nose that Thomas had made fun of so many times. Thomas smiled, wondering what life had been like at the Kent household when Jimmy was growing up-- he resolved to ask Jimmy about his childhood some day.

Mr. Barrow rifled through the drawer in the nightstand, but found nothing of interest. As far as personal effects went, Jimmy had fairly little, and Thomas found himself disappointed. He made his way to the wardrobe in the corner, not expecting to find much. Inside were Jimmy’s few street clothes, along with two pairs of shoes and a hat. Thomas looked up at the top shelf and felt a smirk spread across his face.

He reached up and retrieved a stuffed bear, which was considerably worn in places and looked to be fairly old. It had obviously belonged to Jimmy since childhood. It was all Thomas could do to keep from laughing aloud. It wasn’t that he considered Jimmy childish for keeping such a thing (stupidly sentimental, perhaps, but at least the bear wasn’t on the young man’s bed), it just seemed so incongruous with the way Jimmy presented himself to everyone.

Thomas was so engrossed with snooping around Jimmy’s room that he’d forgotten to listen for footsteps in the corridor. His blood ran cold when he heard a familiar voice behind him say, “Trouble finding it?” Mr. Barrow wheeled around, bear in hand, to come face to face with Jimmy. The footman glanced down at Thomas’ hand and turned bright red. Jimmy scolded himself for not knowing this would happen. He knew that Mr. Barrow was conniving, and would search through his belongings if unsupervised. Jimmy had only returned to his room to get a book of music he’d purchased on his last afternoon off. He hadn’t even thought to supervise Thomas, and now realized his mistake.

After recovering from his initial shock, Mr. Barrow’s face took on a familiar expression. It was the one he used whenever he was covering up his own embarrassment by teasing someone (Jimmy had seen it often directed at Bates). “Get out,” Jimmy commanded before Thomas even had a chance to speak. “Take your bloody book and get out.”

The look on Jimmy’s face was filled with rage and shame, and it was eerily reminiscent of the expression Thomas had seen him wear in this very room that night two years ago. The memory of that debacle was enough to make Mr. Barrow forget any notion of teasing Jimmy about the toy. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t--” Thomas was cut off mid-sentence as he tried to explain himself.

“I said get the hell out of my room.” The threat was evident in Jimmy’s voice, and the last thing that Thomas wanted was to be on the receiving end of a punch from his best friend. _Former best friend now,_ Thomas thought, his stomach sinking. Jimmy would probably figure that he was more trouble than good, and never speak to him again.

As Mr. Barrow stumbled out of the room, his mind swam with all the horrid things Jimmy would be thinking about him. The downstairs gossip would have told Jimmy that Thomas was a thief, a schemer, and a lout. Whatever delusion or sense of obligation had kept Jimmy by his side for the past few months would surely be shattered. Thomas was, for once, at a loss for words, and even if he had tried to speak, Jimmy was in no mood to hear it.

The footman slammed the door, seething. He’d been an idiot to think that Mr. Barrow _wouldn’t_ search through his belongings, as sneaky as he was. Mr. Barrow was a few years older than Jimmy, and he’d risen through the ranks as well as one could hope to in a house like Downton. Jimmy had always, in a corner of his mind, respected Thomas. Now the under-butler would think he was childish and stupid. Jimmy’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment and shame, and dark thoughts swirled through his brain. Sure, he’d allowed Thomas into his room, but just for the book, which had been in plain sight. There was no reason for Thomas to snoop through his belongings. _I could report him to Mr. Carson,_ Jimmy thought. _Who knows what else he’s stuck his nose into._

Jimmy burned with anger, and sat down on his bed with his head in his hands. Telling Carson would just open up a whole new can of worms, and Jimmy didn’t want to seem petty or unreasonable. The stuffed bear had been left at the foot of his bed, and Jimmy got up to put it back in its place inside the wardrobe, unable to stand seeing it now. Suddenly he wasn’t in the mood to play piano, or even go back down to read or play cards. There was a chance that Mr. Barrow might be in the servants’ hall, and Jimmy didn’t trust himself not to start a fight if he saw the man again. Jimmy lay down on his bed, glaring up at the ceiling until he finally changed into his pajamas and went to bed.

After leaving Jimmy’s room, Thomas had stood in the corridor for a second, dumbstruck. He wanted to turn around and shout an apology through the door, or go in again and try to calm Jimmy down. He knew that it had been underhanded to snoop through Jimmy’s personal belongings, but Thomas hadn’t had any malicious intentions. He hadn’t had any intentions, really. Jimmy was a very private person, and Thomas had only wanted to learn a bit about his friend. That was no excuse, and he knew it, but Thomas knew better than to go talk to Jimmy right now.  The footman’s enraged expression was seared into his mind, and Thomas knew that his actions had cost him whatever precarious friendship he’d built up with Jimmy these past few months.

Mr. Barrow went to his own room, his body seeming to move mechanically, without his knowledge. Thomas lay down on his bed, his heart feeling heavy inside his chest as he considered what Jimmy must be feeling. Jimmy would think that Thomas had betrayed his trust. He’d want to tell Mr. Carson that Thomas was and always had been a thief and a scoundrel.

Without knowing when he started, Thomas became aware that he was crying. He angrily rubbed his eyes, loath to embarrass himself any more than he already had. It didn’t help, and soon Thomas was sobbing, his face buried in his pillow and his body heaving as he tried not to make a sound. He’d hurt Jimmy, the one person here who he really, truly cared about. Jimmy was never going to love him, and he was stupid for thinking it was possible. _That’s all I’ve ever done, is ruin things. I can’t do anything right on my own, so I sabotage other people to benefit myself. They’re  right to hate me,_ he thought miserably. An hour later, he’d calmed down. Thomas was no longer crying, but his face was red and his eyes were puffy. He wasn’t sad anymore, just...empty. That was worse. Eventually, Thomas drifted into an uneasy sleep. The next morning when he woke there were dark circles under his eyes and he felt exhausted.

“You look right awful,” Alfred said when Thomas arrived downstairs for breakfast the next morning.

“And a good morning to you, too,” Mr. Barrow grumbled, sitting down to his tea sullenly.

“What happened? Have nightmares?” Bates asked, an amused smirk barely concealed on his lips.

“Yeah, I dreamt you were speaking to me,” Thomas shot back.

Bates narrowed his brows and opened his mouth to retort when Anna intervened. “Alright, boys, that’s enough. Let’s at least have our breakfast before we start at each other’s throats.”

Mr. Barrow stared darkly down at his food, not looking forward to spending the whole day in such foul spirits. He would usually rely on Jimmy to cheer him up or hear his troubles, but that wasn’t an option anymore, and probably wouldn’t ever be again.

Jimmy arrived at breakfast looking completely untroubled. He had resolved to not let his embarrassment show, figuring that Mr. Barrow would only mock him more for it. Upon seeing Thomas, Jimmy grew confused. Mr. Barrow looked distressed, more so than Jimmy had seen in a long while. Why would Mr. Barrow be upset about what had happened between them? It was Jimmy who’d had his privacy invaded, not Thomas. Just for a second, Jimmy wondered if he should speak to Thomas about what had happened. Perhaps he’d overreacted when he’d yelled at Mr. Barrow. As Jimmy deliberated and thought of how to catch Thomas after breakfast, Thomas quietly got up and declared he was going to get a start on his work. Jimmy watched as Mr. Barrow left the room, resigning himself to going through the day without his friend by his side.

The rest of the day was tense for the both of them. Thomas was convinced that Jimmy was furious with him, whereas Jimmy felt embarrassed being anywhere near Thomas. They were each confused about the other’s bashfulness, and both of them blamed themselves for what had happened.

Finally the family all went to bed, and Jimmy and Thomas found themselves in the servants’ hall with only Ivy and Alfred for company. “Do you fancy continuing our piano lessons, Jimmy?” Ivy asked with a smile at the blond. “Only you left so abruptly yesterday we never got to finish.”

“I don’t really feel up to it,” Jimmy said evasively. “Perhaps some other time.”

“What’s gotten you so down today? Both of you look miserable,” Alfred said, looking up over the newspaper he was reading.

“Don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Thomas said scathingly.

“I was only asking, is all,” Alfred said, trying to avoid an argument. He folded the newspaper and got up from the table. “I’m going to bed. See you both in the morning.”

Ivy rose as Jimmy and Thomas nodded goodbyes. “I’m going up too,” she said. Before she’d passed through the doorway, she turned back to them. “Whatever happened, I hope you two sort it out soon. It’s no fun around here without you two.” She smiled and continued on her way, leaving the two men alone.

There was a thick silence between them, as neither wanted to run away but neither wanted to bring up what had happened. Ivy’s words echoed in Jimmy’s head: It’s no fun around here without you two. He’d been oddly lonely all day, surrounded as he was by all the members of the household. The feeling that had been creeping up on him for weeks resurfaced again: Thomas was the most important person in the world to Jimmy. He didn’t want to lose him, especially over something as stupid as what had happened the night before.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did.” The words were calm and subdued, but they were enough to pull Jimmy out of his thoughts. He looked across the table at Mr. Barrow, who looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I don’t know why I did it, but I really am sorry.” Thomas looked down at his hands, folded on the table, unable to meet Jimmy’s eyes. He figured that he should at least tell Jimmy how sorry he was, even if it didn’t fix things.

Jimmy stared at Thomas for a second, unable to believe he was getting an apology from him. In his experience, Thomas wasn’t the type to express contrition. Jimmy cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. “It’s...it’s alright. I suppose I overreacted, yelling at you like that,” he mumbled, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he remembered.

“You had every right to. It’s what I would’ve done,” Thomas said.

Both of them were silent for a moment as they thought of what to say. Neither of them were used to stowing their pride.

Thomas stood up, heading for the door. He didn’t want to stay there, stewing in the awkward silence.

“Wait a second,” Jimmy said, getting to his feet and reaching out for Thomas’ wrist. Leaving things like this wouldn’t do much good, he thought. “Look, I… It was just embarrassing, you see? I mean, a grown man with a toy like that. So when I saw you’d found it, I was so sure you’d make fun of me.” Jimmy dropped Thomas’ wrist, instead tugging gently at the sleeves of his shirt and staring at the floor.

“I wasn’t searching for something to tease you over,” Thomas said. “I just…thought that I could maybe learn something about you. I know hardly nothing about you, and you know everything about me,” he pointed out.

Jimmy almost smiled at that. It seemed impossible that anyone could know everything about Thomas Barrow. “I do not,” he said.

“You know more than most,” Thomas confessed.

Jimmy blushed, but also couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. Mr. Barrow was, in his opinion, the most interesting person in the whole of Downton. The idea that he knew him better than anyone was nice, to be certain. But Thomas was right: if that was the case, perhaps it wasn’t fair that Jimmy was so quiet about his own life. “Well...what do you want to know about me?” Jimmy asked, finally looking up at Thomas.

Thomas blinked, surprised that Jimmy was willing to have this sort of conversation. He allowed himself to hope that perhaps they could remain friends after all. “Everything,” Thomas said immediately. He quickly corrected himself, not wanting to come off as too eager. “I mean, anything you’re willing to tell me.”

This time, Jimmy did smile, and he sat down at the table, looking up at Thomas in a silent invitation. Mr. Barrow sat next to him, looking more timid than Jimmy had ever seen him.

Jimmy wasn’t used to talking about himself for no reason, nor was he accustomed to people wanting to listen. He wasn’t sure where to start, but eventually settled on answering the questions he was sure Mr. Barrow had already.

“The, uh, bear was mine when I was a baby. My parents gave it to me. It was my favorite thing as a kid. I took it everywhere.” Jimmy cleared his throat, still on guard of Thomas making fun of him. “I guess they kept it when I went away to work at Lady Anstruther’s-- they kept a lot of my stuff. And after they died…”

Jimmy realized he’d been staring down at his hands on the table, and self-consciously balled them into fists. “It just...reminds me of them,” he finished hastily.

Thomas had sat silently through Jimmy’s explanation. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he certainly hadn’t meant to dig up any unpleasant memories for Jimmy. “I’m sorry,” Thomas said for the second time that night. He hadn't meant to drag up old memories, and probably painful ones at that.

Jimmy just nodded, and Thomas could sense that the footman wasn’t going to be forthcoming with much more information. Without thinking, Thomas reached out and covered Jimmy’s hand with his own lithe, pale fingers. Jimmy met Thomas’ gaze, surprised at the gesture. Thomas nearly blushed, and ignored his instinct to pull his hand away and move as far away from Jimmy as he could.

“I suppose we both acted out of turn,” Jimmy said quietly.

“Suppose so. I’ve learned my lesson, though. Nothing good’s ever come of me going into your room,” Thomas said, his customary smirk playing around his lips again.

That earned an uneasy chuckle from Jimmy, who remembered all too well what had happened two years ago.

“I overreacted that time, as well,” Jimmy confessed.

“No, I shouldn’t have…” Thomas trailed off, ashamed to remember how he’d behaved. He pulled his hand away from Jimmy’s.

Jimmy quickly reached out and took Thomas’ hand again, hardly even thinking about it. He just knew that he didn’t want Thomas to feel bad about anything anymore. The two men looked at each other, both feeling embarrassed.

“It’d be different if you did it now,” Jimmy said, his voice barely above a whisper. He hadn’t felt this nervous when talking to someone for ages.

“If I did what?” Thomas asked, not allowing himself to hope he’d understood properly. “Y’know. Kissed me,” Jimmy mumbled, his cheeks burning. _What if he doesn’t feel like that anymore? That’d be just my luck. As soon as I realize how I feel about him, he--_

Jimmy’s thoughts stopped abruptly when he felt Thomas’ lips on his own. Overcoming his shock, he only just remembered to close his eyes and concentrate on what he was feeling. The kiss was soft and gentle, and not at all how he’d expect Thomas to be. Jimmy could barely remember the other kiss they’d shared, but he was confident that this was better. When Thomas pulled away, Jimmy leaned forward unconsciously, trying to keep their lips together for as long as possible.

Thomas searched Jimmy’s face for his reaction, and found an expression he’d never thought he’d see on the younger man’s face. Relief flooded Thomas as he finally allowed himself to believe what he’d considered impossible for the longest time.

Jimmy Kent was in love with him.

 

 


End file.
